Their perfect love
by patsan
Summary: "She smiles, only just, for the first time since her day began, since the horrible night faded away. She looks down at him, and loves him, for he's hers to love, his very presence the only balm that soothes her broken soul." To Mary, to Matthew, and the perfect love they shared. It was too short, but so worth the ride. Post-CS ficlet.


_Part me grieving, part writing experiment, this ficlet is an ode to Mary, Matthew and the "perfect love" they shared, and to that little boy who brought them so much joy, if only for a short moment._

_I never recommend music for my fics, but I wrote this listening to _Song for Viola_ by Peter Bradley Adams, which really captures the spirit of this fic and the way I now feel about Matthew and Mary and their all encompassing, tragic love. So… yes, if you'd like a soundtrack, that should be it._

_As always I would like to thank __**EOlivet**__, for the wonderful person and beta that she is._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ the writing style of this piece is inspired by nickeldime17's _Culpability_. I've always wanted to try my hand at it, I'm only sad this had to be the occasion for it, the loss of darling Matthew. The characters don't belong to me either. If they did Matthew would still be alive. Then again DA showed us that sometimes, even though you do own the characters, you can't do with them how you please._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Their perfect love**

She doesn't wake up, for she hasn't slept, not properly, not for days.

When her eyes finally open to a new morning it's an act of will, of duty.

Of love.

The room is dark, because the sky is so grey these days, and heavy with rain, but the air is still warm, and damp, and it clings to her skin like the tears she's cried long into the night, like all the tears she's cried since she's been back at home, alone in a bed that feels too large now.

* * *

_A sleepy smile, bright as the sun shining through the slightly open curtains. _

_"Good morning, darling."_

* * *

She lies on her back for a long time, or maybe it's only a minute, she doesn't know, her eyes unfocused, unseeing, as her hand wanders at her side, unconsciously looking for a warmth it doesn't find there.

She turns her head to her side (_his_ _side_), to the empty pillows, the cold sheets, and she reminds to herself that this is real, this is her life now, always will be.

* * *

_"Did you sleep well?"_

_She tilts her head from where it's nestled under his chin, as her hand comes up to caress his cheek. He turns his face, kissing her palm, lips lingering, enjoying her warmth. She loves when he does that. She loves him._

_"Perfectly. As I woke up," to his delicate fingers sliding on her skin, to his adoring gaze, to their perfect life._

* * *

She pulls the bell rope at last, and slowly sits on the bed. An unexpected dizziness makes her pause, and she has to stop, squeezing her eyes shut, a hand pressing against her stomach, against this body that doesn't seem to heal fast enough, still adjusting to its new condition.

To emptiness.

* * *

_"You don't need to come with me, you know. I will be perfectly fine on my own."_

_"But I want to. I've already asked Tom to settle the matter with Bradley."_

* * *

She takes a few deep breaths, then, in and out, but they just come faster, more shallow, and as her shoulders start trembling there's nothing she can do to stop the sob that's ripped from her throat, that shakes her whole body, and makes her bend over her knees, hiding her face behind her hands.

Tears come, like they always do, but she can't stand them, not in the morning, when the light can't conceal her sorrow, and if she looks up it's her mirror that greets her, a pitiful image reflecting back at her, a broken creature she has no right to be.

She turns away from it, closing her eyes, closing her heart.

She presses her lips together, hard, swallowing to make the tightness in her throat go away, and if a few tears stream down on her face she wipes them away angrily, cold fingers moving on her cheeks again and again, till she feels raw and dry. Hollow.

She stands up then, bare feet taking her to the window in just a few steps.

She breathes deeply, shakily, and lets her forehead rest against the window, the cold glass a relief against her hot skin, its hardness a welcome change from the softness of her own bed. She can't bear softness when everything about her is so sharp now, and hard.

The world does not deserve softness.

* * *

_"But surely you'll be needed there. And it's just a checkup, Matthew, it doesn't mean I'm-" her voice quivers and she stops, because she can't say the word, not until she's sure, and she-_

_But Matthew is taking her chin between his fingers and lifting her face to meet his gaze. "Whether you are or not, my darling," he says, "you will never disappoint me. Never. "_

_She's not surprised that he knows her so well. Sometimes she feels as though he's a part of her as much as her own voice is._

* * *

When Anna comes in it's a composed face she meets, a distant stare. Mary notices the concerned look, the tight line of her lips, but she can't take the other woman's worry.

She needs to be strong. Not for herself, but for _him_. Only for him.

And when she's finally dressed, the black blouse falling easily over her thin form, she walks down the corridor to a room only two doors away from hers. She doesn't pause at the doorway, doesn't stop to think, for this is the hardest of times, when anger flows within her the most, when she goes and sees the most precious gift of all, and knows he can't be there to cherish it with her. To love him as she does.

He's sleeping in his crib, her beautiful baby boy, the only ray of light in this nightmare she calls her life. A little frown wrinkles his forehead, and she takes him in her arms, carefully, but quickly, her need for him overwhelming, as though he could disappear if she doesn't snatch him first, if she doesn't hold him tightly enough.

She brushes her nose against his, tenderly, and the little frown goes away, his darling face relaxing in a peaceful slumber, his hand wandering over her heart, chubby fingers grabbing at the neckline of her dark dress.

She smiles, only just, for the first time since her day began, since the horrible night faded away. She looks down at him, and loves him, for he's hers to love, his very presence the only balm that soothes her broken soul.

Her voice is soft as she mutters, "good morning, my little prince."

* * *

_They walk quietly down the hall, waiting for their turn, when Mary calls his name and takes his hand, squeezing it. "I want you to wait outside."_

_"Darling-"_

_She locks her eyes with his, smiling softly. She's not afraid. That's not it. "I mean it. I am fine, truly. I just- if I am then… I want to be the one telling you."_

* * *

She watches him nurse, his eyelids opening from time to time, deep blue eyes looking up at her, and she knows they will change into a clearer shade, more like his father's, just as his straight nose will remind her of his, but not the hair, darker than his ever was, but lighter that her own. His and hers. Neither. Either.

She looks at him, entranced by his every movement, by his every expression, rising of his eyebrow, wrinkle of his nose, and she wonders at the beauty of him, at his perfection.

At how desired he was, at the joy the mere thought of meeting him brought into their life.

She smiles as she remembers the look on her husband's face, the way his voice broke with emotion as he'd greeted him, the way he'd looked at her only a moment afterwards.

Tears form in her eyes at the memory, of course they do, but they go away in the blink of an eye now, because nothing is more important than he is, or more powerful, and she keeps watching her beautiful baby boy, the boy they'd both wanted so very much, the boy her darling Matthew had loved so much, even before he knew him, that he'd started loving since the first moment he knew of his existence.

She cradles her baby to her chest, sniffing quietly in the silent room. He's done nursing now, and she can see his squinty eyes surrender to sleep, little fingers flexing, opening and closing near her face. She kisses his knuckles, and is not surprised when he grabs her thumb in his sleep, like he did always, since the day he was born.

She smiles softly, and doesn't move, letting this moment of peace and quietness wash over her. It won't last, but for now her heavy, wrenched heart feels just a little lighter, her burden a little more bearable.

For now.

* * *

_He's walking up and down the corridor of the hospital when she comes down the stairs. He looks up at her, eyes sparkling with concern and hope and so much love that she can't help but smile, shyly, tenderly. _

_Happily._

_He smiles back at her, and waits for her to come down to him. Only then he takes her hands in his. _

_He looks down between them as she speaks the words they're been waiting for for so many months, emotion breaking his voice as he tries to talk and suddenly stops, unable to go on, but his smile widens, impossibly so, and when he looks up a her again his eyes are just a little shiny._

_He invades her space, then, taking her in his arms, right there in the middle of the room, cradling her body against his own like there is nothing more important or precious in the world than her. _

_And as he whispers his love for her and their unborn child, as she sheds a few tears herself, in the safety of his arms, she knows _there isn't_ anything more important than _this_, nor more precious, and for the first time in many weeks she lets herself embrace a new kind of happiness, one that she'd thought impossible for her, for so so very many years. _

_Complete, blissful. _

_Perfect._

* * *

And that is all.

It might continue, it might not. When I first conceived this fic I imagined it to cover a much longer time, to be a longer journey than it turned out to actually be, but I felt as though this was the right pace, this the right place to end it. At least for now.

Of course I would LOVE to know what you thought about it :)

Till next time (hopefully with a new chapter of _I Carry Your Heart With Me_).


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